


Repercussions

by archiveofourscone



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Flashbacks, Guilt, Redemption, Self-Hatred, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-07-30 19:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20102596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiveofourscone/pseuds/archiveofourscone
Summary: Catra is at Bright Moon’s gate, waiting for someone to notice her.And they do. They converge on her quickly, each of them pointing a spear at her and barking orders.Catra follows them without hesitation.





	1. Atonement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, would anyone like to talk about how Noelle played us all and we thought that Catra was getting sent to Beast Island? 
> 
> Anyway, hello, it's me, back with another post-season theory that's probably also going to be wrong, but you know what? I've got feelings, and I had to get them out somehow.
> 
> Enjoy!

Catra remembers the point that she went too far. She remembers the look on Scorpia’s face as she turned the stun stick on her. She remembers stunning Entrapta moments before that. She remembers attacking Adora relentlessly.

She remembers pulling the lever.

She remembers wanting it all to burn, even if it meant she would go with it.

Everything leading up to that moment felt redeemable. Even though she lied to Entrapta, she actually enjoyed Entrapta’s company, and what started out as a lie to get Etheria’s technology expert on her side turned into a strange friendship.

A friendship she ruined.

And she should’ve gone with Adora. Really, she should’ve, but if she had left the Horde, she never would’ve met Scorpia. She never would’ve had the only person in her life that believed in her no matter what.

Well, the only person who _used_ to believe in her. She can’t really blame Scorpia for not believing in her now.

She isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do to make it all better now.

Even still, she’s at Bright Moon’s gate, waiting for someone to notice her.

And they do. They converge on her quickly, each of them pointing a spear at her and barking orders.

Catra follows them without hesitation.

She doesn’t expect to be treated nicely. She doesn’t expect to be welcomed in any way.

She expects them to treat her exactly as they do. They cuff her immediately, and she’s dragged into Bright Moon’s castle without a fight.

She deserves this.

Just before they reach the stairs to Bright Moon’s new prison, Catra turns her head and sees Adora and Scorpia among the group of princesses watching her. Scorpia won’t even look at her, and Catra understands even if it hurts.

And Adora.

Adora looks at Catra without faltering, and Catra has only ever seen that look one other time when Adora let her and Hordak go as the walls of the Fright Zone shook around them.

Catra looks down, and when the guards roughly shove her into the cell, she just goes down and lies there while they tell her not to try anything.

She won’t. 

She lies there for a long time, so long that she starts to lose track of time.

She wonders if someone will come in to question her, or if they’ll just let her rot in this cell forever.

Rotting is what she deserves.

Even still, she wonders who will come. She guesses Glimmer, Bright Moon’s newly-crowned queen, and she knows that she’ll come down angry and demanding answers, a burning fire of hatred behind every word and action.

Catra knows why, too. She heard the whispers throughout Etheria.

Queen Angella disappeared. Glimmer refused to tell anyone the details, only saying that her mother was a hero.

And now Glimmer rules over Bright Moon.

It’s all Catra’s fault. Catra knows what actually happened to the former queen of Bright Moon.

Angella refused to let Adora sacrifice herself, and now she’s the one suspended between two dimensions, the true savior of Etheria.

All because Catra pulled that lever.

No matter who they send, Catra knows it won’t be Adora or Scorpia.

They send Bow, and he doesn’t seem as tentative as Catra remembers him. He glares at her, and Catra thinks that it’s a lot different than the Bow who tried so hard to get through to her when she was his and Glimmer’s prisoner. He tried asking her about Adora and pushed and prodded at the parts of Catra she didn’t want to admit were there.

The parts that missed Adora more than she would ever admit. The parts that knew that what she was doing was wrong. The parts that wished she could stop fighting altogether.

The parts she fought tooth and nail.

There’s none of sympathetic Bow, though, but she doesn’t expect sympathy. She doesn’t expect anyone to try and get through to her and convince her that she’s still good.

All those chances are long gone now.

Catra pulls herself up off the floor and slouches against the far wall facing Bow.

“What are you doing here?”

It’s the question Catra expects. It’s the classic question someone asks their enemy when they show up like Catra did.

And Catra has had her answer thought out since she decided to come to Bright Moon.

“I’m here to stand trial for my crimes,” Catra says, her voice rough since this is the first time she’s talked in weeks now.

Bow looks confused, “You can’t be serious. This has to be a trap.”

“It’s not,” Catra’s voice is so small, “Leave me in here as long as you like. No one from the Horde is coming for me. I made sure of that.”

Bow questions her some more, and he repeats quite a few trying to catch Catra in a lie.

She answers honestly every time though.

After he’s apparently gotten enough out of her, he leaves, and the cells are quiet with just Catra occupying them. She doesn’t break it either, though she does think about humming to herself just to fill the space.

It’s the first time Catra has truly had silence. Even in the cells in the Fright Zone, there is always the ambient noise of the Fright Zone’s loud pipes and the robot sentries.

Bright Moon, though, Catra almost can’t handle the extreme quiet. She almost starts wishing that they will put someone else down here with her to make some noise.

She goes days with no company besides the guards who bring her meals.

Her next visitor is, surprisingly, Mermista. Catra kind of remembers her from both of the Rebellion’s rescue missions into the Fright Zone, but mostly, she remembers trying to destroy the gates to Sealineas, the only thing keeping the Horde out.

She remembers firing everything she could, and she remembers trying to distract She-Ra so that she couldn’t fix the gate.

Just another one of Catra’s mistakes.

“Okay,” the princess draws out in a bored tone, “I was sent here since I’m the only one here today without some checkered past with you. So, why are you here?”

Catra gives the same answer she gave to Bow, and the princess doesn’t ask anymore questions. She seems satisfied that Catra gave the same answer Bow must have told them after that first interrogation.

Mermista leaves without any other questions.

Every few days, another princess comes in to question her.

Perfuma is surprisingly intimidating, and Catra notices the vines creeping closer to her as Perfuma questions her. She tries her hardest not to flinch away, and she’s fine until one of the vines inches towards her ankle. Perfuma seems pleased that the intimidation worked, but Catra’s answers aren’t any different than they have been.

Frosta puffs her chest out and crosses her arms, but it doesn’t have the affect Catra is sure she wants. Even still, Catra answers the exact same way she has for everyone else. She gives the truth, and she’ll keep giving them the truth until they realize she isn’t lying.

She’s sure every princess on Etheria comes to question her but never Adora or Scorpia.

Or Entrapta, for that matter, though she isn’t really sure what happened to Entrapta after she ordered her to be sent to Beast Island. She didn’t see Entrapta when she was brought into the castle, and none of the other princesses have mentioned her, so Catra starts wondering where Entrapta could be and what her fate was.

Probably nothing good.

And it’s all Catra’s fault.

The princesses stop coming, and Catra is left on her own with just her thoughts, and she thinks about every last mistake she’s made since Thaymor and even some before that, every single thing she did to bring her to this point.

Becoming Force Captain and Hordak’s second-in-command.

Making herself Etheria’s almost-destroyer.

Attacking Adora and trying to stop her from stopping the planet’s destruction, black and purple corruption seeping into her fur.

She starts to become overwhelmed, and she pushes her hands to her ears to stop the chant of, _“All your fault. It’s all your fault. All your fault.”_

But a different thought pushes the others out.

It’s the weird moment that brought her here to Bright Moon’s castle in the first place.

_“Oh, my dear C’yra. Mara needs someone like us or else she starts to forget she’s human as well as She-Ra.”_

_“But I’ve made so many mistakes. I don’t know if anyone will ever forgive me, and even if they did, I wouldn’t deserve it.”_

_“First things first, dearie. You need to atone.”_

_“How do I do that? Sorry isn’t going to cut it.”_

_“Oh, C’yra. You’ll find a way.”_

Catra is pulled from thoughts of the weird old woman who seems to live in the Whispering Woods by her first surprise since stepping foot on the castle grounds.

Scorpia stands in front of her cell.

“Hey, Wildcat,” Scorpia says, and it’s small, so unlike Scorpia that Catra feels the guilt swallowing her whole.

She’s the one who did this to Scorpia. All Scorpia ever wanted was for Catra to be happy, and Catra could’ve been happy with her in the Crimson Waste, they could have been happy _together_, but Catra had to destroy things, and Scorpia was in the blast range.

“Hey,” Catra responds, pulling into the wall as much as she can to get away from the bars and away from the person who cared about her so much.

The person she pushed away.

The person she threatened.

Another resident of Etheria the portal could’ve destroyed.

“So, uh,” Scorpia looks down at her claws, “Everyone keeps saying that you’re here to turn yourself in for everything you’ve done.”

“I’m not lying,” Catra says quickly.

“I know.”

And then they’re silent. Catra looks down at the dirt that makes up the cell’s floor, and Scorpia doesn’t look up from her claws.

Catra figures she has to be the one to break the silence.

“Where’s Entrapta?”

Scorpia looks up, and Catra can’t read her expression.

She used to always be able to read whatever Scorpia was thinking.

“She’s back in Drill,” Scorpia says, “I got her out of the Fright Zone before it crumbled, and after she recovered, she declared Drill neutral.”

Catra nods.

And then they’re silent again.

And Catra has to be the one to break it again.

“Listen, Scorpia—”

“Stop,” Scorpia cuts her off.

“I just—”

“No, Catra,” Scorpia almost shouts.

Catra has never heard Scorpia come close to shouting.

“I can’t hear this right now,” Scorpia says, “You almost destroyed the planet. The _planet_, and you knew that’s what the portal would do. You wanted to win against Adora so badly that you stunned Entrapta and ordered her to be taken to Beast Island. You threatened _me_. I just,” Scorpia looks close to tears, and Catra wishes that there was something she could do, “I thought I was more important to you, but I guess I was wrong.”

“No, Scorpia,” Catra moves from the wall, but only just so, “You weren’t wrong.”

“Then why couldn’t we have just stayed in the Crimson Waste?” Scorpia asks, “Why did we need to go back to the Fright Zone?” Catra hears the silent question there. _Why did you have to pull the lever?_

“Because—” Catra takes a deep breath, “Because I couldn’t let myself be happy. I couldn’t let Adora win. I had to destroy her, because I blamed her for everything that happened to me.” Catra looks up at Scorpia before she says, “I self-imploded, and I took you down with me because you were the only person foolish enough to care about someone like me, and I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

Scorpia doesn’t respond. 

She turns around and leaves.

And Catra is left alone again, this time haunted by memories.

_She’s just defeated Tung Lashor and turned to ask, “Who’s the strongest in the Crimson Waste?” Scorpia starts a chant of her name, and Catra knows she’s never been this happy or this content, probably ever._

Catra shakes her head, but more memories just flood in.

_Adora and Catra are little, still young enough to hide in small places around the Fright Zone, and they’re hidden away in a small area connected to the vents._

_“The gray ones are the best!” Adora giggles, “The brown ration bars are just gross.”_

_“You’re gross!” Catra tackles Adora, and they wrestle, laughing the entire time._

Catra shuts her eyes, “Please, stop.”

_Entrapta babbles on, mostly to herself (and her recorder), but Catra follows as best as she can. The science completely baffles her, but Entrapta seems to be happy that someone is taking the time to listen, so Catra does exactly that. She stops and she listens, even if she never understands what Entrapta is saying._

Catra slumps against the wall and stays there. She barely moves, even when the guard brings in her meals.

She stays like that for days, maybe weeks, until she hears the door open and close.

This time it’s Glimmer, and she comes right into the cell and grabs Catra by the collar, picking her up and slamming her into the wall.

“I don’t care why you’re here,” Glimmer gets out around clenched teeth, “I don’t care if you’re seeking forgiveness and I don’t care what you have to say. All I know is that you’re the reason my mom is gone, and it should have been you stuck between dimensions.”

She pulls Catra away just enough so that she can slam Catra back against the wall again, and Catra starts to feel dizzy but she doesn’t fight.

“Well?” Glimmer yells, “You don’t have anything to say?”

Catra has a lot to say. Apologies and explanations get caught on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t say them.

She’s saved when Bow comes in shouting Glimmer’s name. He pulls the princess (_queen_, Catra corrects herself, _Glimmer is the queen now_) off of Catra and out of the cell.

Catra falls to the dirt and catches her breath.

She should have said something, anything, to Glimmer, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t get any words out at all.

Her claws dig in and tears start collecting in the short fur under her eyes.

Minutes, hours, days pass, and Catra wonders if anyone will be next. She wonders if Scorpia will come down again, or if anyone else will question her, but she doesn’t expect anyone anymore.

Especially not Adora.

But there Adora is, standing in front of the bars, looking down at Catra.

Catra remembers the happiness she used to feel around Adora, and she remembers the boiling hatred she used to feel too.

Now, though, Catra feels regret.

Adora just stands there for a few moments. She looks Catra over, her eyes panning across matted hair and dirty fur and clothes far more ripped than usual.

_“She needs someone like you,”_ echoes in Catra’s head.

_She doesn’t_, Catra thinks.

“So,” Adora says, her voice hard, “You want to stand trial for everything you’ve done.”

Catra nods yes.

“Crimes include invading Bright Moon, the destruction of the Whispering Woods, the attempted destruction of the Moon Stone, weaponizing First Ones technology, and opening a portal that almost destroyed all of Etheria. Am I missing anything?”

Catra nods no.

“Why?”

No one had asked that yet. They had asked why she was here, what she wanted, whether she was setting a trap for the Horde, but no one had asked her why she wants this.

She isn’t sure Adora will understand.

“It’s what’s right,” Catra whispers.

Adora laughs, and it isn’t like the laughter from their childhood, filled with fun and hijinks. It’s short and sharp, meant to cut through Catra.

“You want to do what’s right?” Adora asks, “You’ve had a million chances to do what’s right, so what changed, Catra? Why does it matter now?”

Catra isn’t sure she can explain, and she isn’t sure Adora will believe her, even if she can.

Even still, she tries.

“You were right,” Catra says softly, “I was blaming you for every terrible thing that happened to me. I blamed you for Shadow Weaver, and I blamed you for my unhappiness. I turned away from you in Thaymor because you broke that promise we made as kids, and I kept punishing you for leaving over and over again. When I pulled that lever, I just wanted to win. I wanted to watch you burn alongside Etheria, and I wanted to be remembered as the person who finally took down the Rebellion, even if there was no one to remember me.”

“What made you realize all that?” Adora asks, and her voice isn’t as harsh anymore, but it still has an edge.

“I don’t know, exactly.” Catra pulls her legs to her chest and wraps her tail around herself. “I had a lot of time to think after Hordak left me.”

And Catra remembers that moment, the moment Hordak found out that Catra lied about Entrapta to him. He attacked, and Catra tried her hardest to fight back, but she was no match to Entrapta's new armor. He held her around the neck and squeezed, and Catra was just seconds away from blacking out when he released her and said, _“I should have never liberated you from the Magicats. I should’ve left you to die with your kind.”_

Catra leaves that out, though. 

“I ended up going to Half Moon,” she continues, “Apparently it was the home of the Magicats before the Horde eradicated them. Now there’s just ruins and bones, and there was some woman there. She seemed to know me, but not really. She called me C’yra, and she called you Mara.”

Adora’s eyes go wide, “Madame Razz?”

“You know her?” Catra feels like she should be surprised, but she really isn’t. It makes sense that this woman would know Adora.

“Yeah,” Adora softens a bit more, “Mara was the She-Ra before me. I think Madame Razz knew her.”

“She seems to know a lot of things.”

Adora nods, and then she asks, “What did she tell you?”

_“She needs you now more than ever, C’yra. She needs you by her side.”_

“Nothing that made sense,” Catra lies, the first lie she’s told since coming to Bright Moon.

Adora doesn’t need to know what Madame Razz really said though. Catra isn't even sure Adora would believe her if she told the truth.

“She has a tendency to do that.”

Catra nods.

It’s quiet for just a moment before Adora asks, “The Magicats?”

“My people, apparently,” Catra explains, “The Horde viewed them as a threat, and they killed everyone but me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Catra says, her tail flicking just a bit, “I wasn’t the only one stolen from my home.”

Adora looks down, and Catra wonders what she said, but Adora doesn’t say anything.

Catra isn’t used to Adora not saying what’s on her mind.

“You’ll be tried before the sorcerers of Mystacor,” Adora says, turning to leave, but she glances at Catra just once over her shoulder before she goes.

The door closes with a slam, and then Catra is left in her silent cell all on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it. After the season, it couldn't get out of my head, because I could only think about what Catra would have to go through to get her redemption, because this isn't a mere Zuko situation. There will need to be more. And why not throw some Razz in there? She seems to know what's going on.
> 
> Anyway, if you want to share your theories (or if you agree with me), let me know. Or you can tell me if you'd like to see more of this theory. Either way, that can be achieved in a comment, or, if Tumblr is more your speed, you can come discuss theories with me over at hellofromthe-otter-slide.
> 
> Until the next chapter!


	2. The Trial at Mystacor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra stands trial for her crimes in Mystacor before the Sorcerers' Council and the Princess Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to chapter two. I don't really have much to say in this beginning note, so why don't we just move along?
> 
> Enjoy!

The Sorcerers' Council isn't what Catra expects them to be. The five sorcerers are old and young, men and women, a mix of Etherians and fae.

And all of them are looking at Catra like they're worried she might snap right here and now in the trial chambers.

All except one woman, the head sorceress, who doesn’t look at Catra at all. She addresses the room, and even as she talks about Catra and her crimes, their eyes never meet.

The trial begins by listing Catra's crimes.

Bombing the castle in the Kingdom of Snows and kidnapping Princess Glimmer and Bow.

The attempted siege of Bright Moon castle.

The destruction of the Whispering Woods.

Violence against villages acquired by the Horde.

Kidnapping Adora.

Opening a portal that almost lead to the destruction of Etheria.

The princesses all sit on either side of the Sorcerers’ Council, Glimmer and She-Ra the two middle points. Catra can read their expressions easily.

Most of them watch Catra with contempt and distrust, but Glimmer looks at Catra with disgust and contempt.

Catra guesses it’s because one of her crimes was left out of the list.

The portal was mentioned.

The fact that opening the portal led to Queen Angella’s death was not.

Catra sits quietly and waits to be asked to speak. She remembers a different trial and the speech she prepared for it, hoping to cut into Hordak before he inevitably had her killed.

She almost wishes Hordak would’ve killed her then. If he had done that, if he hadn’t sent her on a death mission to the Crimson Waste, if she had never overheard that conversation, she wouldn’t be here right now.

But Catra can’t think like that. 

All of those things happened.

And now she’s standing trial before the Rebellion because of everything that followed. 

And everything she did before.

She wonders what they’ll do to her. She doesn’t think they’re going to kill her, but she’s unsure what punishments the Rebellion even has. Will she live out her life in a cell? Will they banish her?

Will they execute her?

_What’s going to happen to me?_

The head sorceress draws something in the air, and Catra gets flashes of Shadow Weaver and red electricity and pain, so much pain.

The flashes don’t last long.

“This is a truth spell,” the head sorceress says, and the glowing circle washes over Catra with a flick of her hand, “You will now be compelled to answer all of our questions honestly.”

Catra nods.

It isn’t like she plans to lie anyway.

That’s not why she came here.

As explained at the start of the trial, each sorcerer on the council gets one question, and then the princesses each have the opportunity to ask one of their own.

The first sorcerer asks why Catra showed up at Bright Moon, and Catra starts to feel like a broken record, repeating the same thing she’s fairly certain she told every single member of the Princess Alliance.

The second asks if Catra knew the consequences of opening the portal.

“I did,” Catra answers, ducking her head, “Entrapta told me herself what could happen, but I stunned her, threatened Scorpia, and did it anyway.”

The room is quiet for just a few moments before Catra hears a rise in murmurs.

The next sorcerer waits for it to quiet down before asking the next question.

Why?

Catra looks up, and instead of looking at the sorcerer who asked, she looks at She-Ra.

She hates She-Ra.

She tried to destroy She-Ra so many times she lost count.

She-Ra is Adora, and Adora used to be the only person she knew she could count on.

She-Ra doesn’t look back at her.

Catra doesn’t want to answer, and she stays quiet for as long as she can, but the truth spell starts to do its work, and everything she never wanted to say starts getting harder and harder to hold back.

“I did it, because I couldn’t let Adora win,” Catra spits out, the words ripped out by the truth spell, “Shadow Weaver came back for Adora, and then Entrapta told me that Adora was right about the portal, and I saw red. I needed to win. I needed to prove that I could beat her, that I was _better_ than her, so I pulled the lever.”

Catra can’t look at She-Ra now, not with that truth so out in the open.

“I didn’t care what happened to Etheria as long as I was its destroyer,” Catra ends, and she looks up at the Sorcerers’ Council, her tail flicking uncomfortably.

They look at her like she’s a monster.

She knows she is.

The room is dead silent before the next sorceress clears her throat and asks something unexpected.

She asks about Catra’s relationship to Shadow Weaver, but she calls her Light Spinner.

It takes Catra a moment to respond.

How is she supposed to explain her relationship with Shadow Weaver?

She doesn’t know.

Even still, the truth spell does its work.

“She raised me,” Catra answers, “I don’t remember being raised by anyone else.”

That’s all Catra has to say. She doesn’t know if she can explain it any more than that.

The four sorcerers on the council turn to the head sorceress and wait for her question.

She looks at Catra with obvious hatred, and Catra wonders what she’s done to warrant such specific disdain. Everyone else watches her carefully, like they don’t know when she might turn and bring the entire Horde marching up Mystacor’s cliffs.

The head sorceress, though, she looks at Catra with hatred and disgust.

“My brother, King Micah, was trained by Light Spinner,” the head sorceress says, and even with that little bit of information, Catra understands.

This woman is Queen Angella’s sister-in-law.

Catra looks to Glimmer and notices the mirrored look of hatred and wishes for the millionth time that she never pulled that lever.

That she never left the Crimson Waste.

That she left with Adora when she had the chance.

“She wanted him to be her perfect student,” the head sorceress continues, “She trained him because she saw promise in him. She thought that they could rule side by side.”

_Just like Adora,_ Catra thinks.

“She seeks power to steal it. She knew Micah was a powerful sorcerer. She sensed She-Ra in Adora, so why did she pick you?”

Catra’s eyes go wide, and she shrinks into herself just slightly.

_Useless,_ she hears in her head, the voice sounding all too much like Shadow Weaver, _Absolutely worthless._

She can’t help the tears that spring to her eyes, and she does everything possible to keep them in.

She may have turned herself in, and she plans to atone, but she will not cry in front of the Sorcerers’ Council and the entire Princess Alliance.

So, she deflects.

“I wish I could tell you,” Catra says, trying her hardest to sound unaffected, “To Shadow Weaver I was nothing. I was a nuisance, something she had to keep around because her star pupil had grown attached to it, and she treated me as much. She used me over and over again, no matter how many times I tried to gain her approval.”

That doesn’t seem to satisfy the head sorceress. She looks like she was expecting a different answer, something to show how this seemingly worthless girl almost became Etheria’s killer.

_She wasn’t expecting me to just be me,_ Catra thinks, _She was expecting me to be another one of Shadow Weaver’s proteges. She was expecting me to be something special._

And now, the floor is open to the princesses. 

They don’t have to ask questions, but they can if they want to, and unsurprisingly, they want to.

Scorpia stands quickly, her chair rattling just slightly, and asks Catra why they couldn’t have run from the Horde when they had the chance.

Catra sighs.

“Because I was happy,” Catra smiles at Scorpia, her best friend, the person who somehow still has faith in her, which is a miracle, all things considered, “I can’t remember feeling so happy, but there was something missing.”

Catra’s glad that Scorpia can only ask that one question, because she knows that the follow-up would be to ask what was missing.

She doesn’t expect Glimmer to stand and ask that very question.

Catra fights the truth spell, she tries to lie, but she can’t.

Of course she can’t.

“Adora,” Catra says, her voice strangled from trying to keep it in, “Adora was missing.”

A few of the princesses turn and look at She-Ra, but She-Ra finally looks at Catra.

To Catra, She-Ra is a completely different person, but those eyes, so clear and blue and tied to so many of Catra’s happy memories, those are all Adora.

The head sorceress commands Catra to elaborate, and Catra doesn’t even know that’s allowed, but she’s compelled to.

“All my life, I thought Adora and I were going to rule Etheria together.” Catra doesn’t even fight it anymore. She just lets it all spill out. “Adora would lead the Horde, and I’d be her second-in-command, and nothing could stop us. And then she became She-Ra, and she left without thinking. She left _me_ with only a half-assed plea to come with her.”

Spinerella stands, and she’s kind as she asks why Catra didn’t go.

“She explained to me how she finally saw that what the Horde was doing was evil, how she couldn’t come back after what she saw in Thaymor.” Catra wants to look up, to say this to She-Ra, to _Adora_, but she can’t.

She says it to the ground.

“She saw strangers suffering and decided to go. She saw what happened to me for _years_ and never suggested leaving.”

She doesn’t have to elaborate. Apparently that answer is good enough for the truth spell.

Nobody asks what happened to Catra growing up.

She doesn’t know if she would be able to keep it together if they did.

She-Ra stands, and the room goes silent.

And then she’s not She-Ra anymore. She’s Adora.

“Before you came to Bright Moon, you said you went to Half Moon and Madame Razz was there,” Adora says, her voice echoing off the high ceilings in the silence of the room, “What did she say to you to get you to come here?”

_“She needs you now more than ever, C’yra.”_

“She told me about the Magicats,” Catra says, hoping that it’s good enough so that she can hide the rest, “She told me that they were the first Etherian species the First Ones built a bond with, and because of that, the Magicats were highly advanced, far more than many of the other kingdoms.”

Apparently, it’s not enough, because Catra continues talking.

“She-Ra has always had some sort of connection with the queens of Half Moon. They were always allies, but more often than not, they would form strong friendships.”

“You mentioned that she called you C’yra,” Adora continues, and Catra knows that they are officially breaking custom, because Adora asks, “Who is C’yra?”

“The queen of Half Moon during Mara’s time as She-Ra,” Catra answers, though she wonders whether the truth spell has worn off, because she doesn’t feel obligated to answer. 

She wants to.

“And her and Mara were allies.” It's not really a question.

“Adora—” Glimmer says, looking worriedly up at the Sorcerers’ Council, but Adora puts her hand up, cutting Glimmer off from whatever warning she was about to voice.

“Close friends, actually,” Catra says, “Madame Razz mentioned that Mara was often the voice of reason in their friendship while C’yra tended to be pretty hot-headed.”

“And the rest of the Magicats?”

Catra knows that Adora already knew the answer. Catra told her as much when Adora questioned her in the cell at Bright Moon.

“Destroyed by the Horde to gain territory,” Catra explains without emotion, trying not to think of the people she could have had, the _life_ she could have had, “From what Hordak told me, they slaughtered everyone and took me for some reason.”

Adora sits, seemingly out of questions, and Catra breathes a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to talk about the other half of her and Razz’s conversation.

_“Yes, She-Ra needs her Magicat queen, but more importantly, Mara needs you, C’yra.”_

The head sorceress asks if anyone has any final questions, and when there is nothing more to be asked, Catra is taken out of the chambers and back to her cell deep in Mystacor’s cellars.

~*~

Catra sits in her cell waiting for the Princess Alliance and Sorcerers’ Council to come to a decision. She doesn’t have much to do, so she imagines them all in a room coming up with punishments for all of her crimes, each thing worse than the last. She imagines them saying, _No, no, that’s not good enough,_ and coming up with something better, something more fitting for every awful thing Catra has ever done.

At some point, without meaning to, she falls asleep.

_Catra is back in the Fright Zone._

_She’s curled up at the foot of Adora’s bed, and everything is fine until she hears a scream._

_It’s Adora._

_She shoots up in bed and looks around herself, ready to defend her and Adora if she needs to._

_The thing is, Adora is looking at her with fear in her eyes._

_Adora has never been afraid of her._

_“What?” Catra asks,“What is it?”_

_“Catra,” Adora shakes as she reaches out for Catra, “What happened to you?”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_It’s then that Catra hears it._

_Her voice._

_It sounds distorted and almost electronic._

_It sounds like it did when Catra came back from the portal corrupted._

_She runs to the locker room connected to the barracks and looks in the mirror._

_She flinches back._

_It’s not just part of her face and her arm. The black engulfs most of Catra’s body. Her normally-mismatched eyes were deep pits, and only bits and pieces of orange fur and her mane stuck out._

_“No,” she says, reaching up to run her hands over her face, “No, this can’t be right. This went away when the portal closed.”_

_The Catra in the mirror smiled maliciously. “This will never go away” she says, her voice even more distorted than Catra’s own, “The portal didn’t do this to us. This has always been inside of you.”_

_Catra sinks to her knees and starts clawing at her face, whispering, “No,” over and over again to herself._

_“We’re a monster, you know,” Mirror Catra says, and Catra looks up to see that her mirror version no longer just exists in the mirror. She walks up to Catra. “We will always be a monster.”_

_“I’m not,” Catra breathes out desperately, “I’m not a monster.”_

_“You are,” Mirror Catra says like it’s simple, “There’s no point in fighting it anymore.”_

_Mirror Catra looks past her, and when Catra turns around, there’s She-Ra looking at her with regret and anger._

_“One day She-Ra will have to kill us,” Mirror Catra says from behind her, “She won’t have any other choice.”_

_She-Ra pulls her sword from her back, “I’m so sorry, Catra.”_

_“Adora, no—”_

_She-Ra’s sword slices through the air and—_

A loud noise against the bars of Catra’s cell startles her awake. Her hands immediately go to her face, her nightmare still playing over and over again in her head.

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Adora, and Catra doesn’t need to know Adora well to know the look on her face.

_Well, this can’t be good._

“So,” Catra says, curling up in the bed, “They sent you down to give the verdict?”

“Not exactly,” Adora looks anywhere but at Catra, “Sending me wouldn’t follow Mystacor’s trial protocol.”

“Just like asking all those questions.”

Adora looks at Catra then, and she just nods.

“So, why are you down here then?”

Adora sighs, and to Catra’s surprise, she sits down on the other side of the bars.

“I don’t know.”

Catra thinks about going to sit across from her, but the bed feels safe. The bed isn’t right across from her best friend growing up, the person she told everything to, the person she thought she would always have.

The person who asked her to run away.

The person she felt she had to best for the longest time.

So, Catra stays on the bed and doesn’t say anything else.

She knows Adora will fill the quiet.

“They finally let us out, and everyone went back to their rooms, but for some reason, I felt like I needed to come here," Adora tries to explain.

“The guards just let you in?” Catra asks, wondering just how strict security is here.

“Well, yeah,” Adora smiles, and Catra’s heart breaks just a bit, because this is the first time that Adora has smiled at her since Adora left the Horde, “I’m She-Ra.”

Catra laughs softly, “That must get you anything you want.”

“Within reason, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Catra repeats softly.

There are a few beats of silence before Catra notices Adora watching her carefully, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“Are you okay?” Adora asks, “When I came in, you were thrashing in your sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“Catra—”

“You don’t have to care about me,” Catra cuts Adora off and looks away from her, “Not after everything I’ve done.”

“I’ve always cared about you, Catra,” Adora says, “Even when you stayed with the Horde, or when you attacked Bright Moon, or pulled the lever to open the portal.”

“Why?” Catra asks, the word barely coming out around tears threatening to spill over.

“Because you’re my best friend,” Adora says earnestly, “Even if you don’t see me that way anymore, I never stopped thinking of you as mine.”

“But Glimmer,” Catra whispers, “And Bow.”

“I love them,” Adora says, “And they’ve helped me through so much. I can’t imagine my life without them, but you?” Adora smiles again, this time smaller, like Adora is remembering nights in the Fright Zone whispering to one another and pranks pulled on their instructors. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Catra understands. No matter how close she got to Scorpia, how content she felt with the people surrounding her, being around them never felt the same way as being around Adora.

“How can you still care after everything I’ve done?” Catra looks down and squeezes her eyes shut, “After everything I’ve put you through?”

Adora doesn’t say anything right away, and Catra doesn’t look up.

“Yes, you’ve done some awful things,” Adora finally says, “You won’t be gaining the favor of anyone in the Rebellion anytime soon, but I don’t think you’re irredeemable, Catra. You’ve finally admitted that everything you did was your choice and nobody’s fault but yours. Now you just need to realize that there are people who want to see you be better, not for them, but for yourself.”

Catra thinks of Scorpia and her never-ending belief in Catra. She thinks of Entrapta saving her life. 

And then there’s Adora right in front of her, telling her she never lost faith in Catra, even if Catra did.

Catra doesn’t look up, though. She doesn’t know what to say.

Adora leaves after a few moments of silence, and only then does Catra let herself cry.

She cries because of the things she’s done.

The people she’s hurt.

And because somehow, Adora still cares.

~*~

It takes Mystacor’s Sorcerers’ Council and the Princess Alliance three days to determine Catra’s fate.

Three long days of Catra all alone in her cell after Adora’s visit.

She’s brought back into the trial chambers and stood before the sorcerers and princesses.

The head sorceress stands.

“Force Captain Catra,” the head sorceress says directly to her, and Catra is surprised that they even thought to refer to her as that title, “After deliberating your fate, the Sorcerers’ Council and the Princess Alliance have agreed on your sentence.”

Catra looks at She-Ra, this time sat right beside Glimmer, and She-Ra nods just enough that Catra notices.

“For your crimes, you’ll be banished to the Crimson Waste,” the head sorceress says, “You can never return to the Rebellion.”

_They have to know,_ Catra thinks, _They have to know that the Crimson Waste isn’t a wasteland. Someone in the Princess Alliance has to have mentioned it. How can they not know?_

“Does anyone object to the sentence given?” the head sorceress asks the room.

No one objects.

She nods and looks back down to Catra. “You will leave immediately.”

The guards escort Catra out of the chambers, and she goes without a fight, but her thoughts are spiraling.

_What if this is all just a trick? Are they just going to execute me out there where no one can see? What are they—_

“Wait!” comes from behind them, cutting off Catra’s thoughts.

The guards turn, and Adora runs up to them.

“Can I have a moment?” she asks the guards.

They nod but don’t leave.

“Alone?”

They look at each other, and then down at Adora again.

Adora scoffs. “I can handle her if she tries to run.”

Then, somehow, the guards let go of Catra and move far enough away that they can still see Catra and Adora but they won’t be able to hear.

“Adora, how—”

“Mystacor still thinks the Crimson Waste is completely deserted,” Adora says quickly, “And I convinced the rest of the Alliance not to tell them otherwise. There was no other option.”

“But why?”

“Because Scorpia mentioned you could have been happy there,” Adora says, a small ghost of a smile on her lips, “She said within a day, you became the new leader of the Waste, so I think you’ll do just fine.”

“What was the other option?”

Catra sees something in Adora’s eyes for just a moment before she waves Catra’s question off and says, “That doesn’t matter now.”

Catra can guess what that means.

Execution.

It would’ve been the Rebellion’s first in many, many years.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Adora adds on quickly, “Before they take you to the Crimson Waste.”

Catra smiles just barely, “Bye, Adora.”

Adora smiles sadly, “Bye, Catra.”

~*~

A few Bright Moon guards escort Catra as far into the Waste as they’re willing to go before they leave her with nothing.

Red sand stretches for miles, and unlike the last time Catra was banished here, she feels hope instead of defeat.

This is the place she needs to be right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, I hope you enjoyed it. This isn't perfect, I'll admit. I couldn't think of somewhere else to banish Catra besides the Crimson Waste (or, well, Beast Island, but that seems like it's Horde specific, ya know?), and I didn't want it to be something where Catra ends up staying in the Rebellion. I personally think we're going to see something where Catra finds herself away from the Horde and the Rebellion for a really long time, and then she'll come to the Rebellion in their time of need, but who knows? I also thought Catra was getting sent to Beast Island, and I even wrote a whole series about it, and Noelle made me look like a damn fool, so.
> 
> Anyways, I have a few ideas for a few more chapters, such as Catra's time on her own before making her way to Bright Moon and maybe a chapter set pretty far in the future, but if there's anything else you'd like to see from me, let me know. If Tumblr is more your speed, catch me at hellofromthe-otter-slide.
> 
> Until the next chapter!


	3. Catra Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hordak learns about Catra's betrayal, and he cast her aside.
> 
> Now, Catra is on her own for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I meant to get this chapter out before season four, but as we can see, I failed, but in my defense, grad school is a lot of work, guys.
> 
> Really, I just took a year off of school and forgot how to manage my time.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope y'all like it.
> 
> Happy reading!

Catra and Hordak are camped out in a patch of woods near a Rebellion-protected village and laying low when the Imp finds them. Catra tries to get rid of it before Hordak notices, but it doesn’t work. The Imp evades her and flies directly to Hordak, landing on his shoulder and playing the conversation Catra knows it would.

Entrapta’s voice yelling, _“No, I won’t! I need to tell Hordak. He’ll understand—” _and the unquestionable sound of a stun baton mixed with Entrapta’s scream resound around the trees.

Catra doesn’t get a chance to lie and save herself before Hordak attacks. Catra tries dodging, but Hordak’s new armor makes him unbelievably fast, and even her heightened speed isn’t enough. Hordak catches her in moments, and Catra tries fighting back, tries using everything she can but it’s not enough.

“She didn’t betray me,” he says angrily, “I am getting tired of your lies, Force Captain.”

His hand goes around Catra’s throat, and Catra scratches at his wrist, but her claws do nothing to the enforced metal.

Hordak pulls Catra up and off her feet, his grip tightening, and Catra fights harder, feeling more and more desperate as breathing becomes harder and harder.

“Worthless,” Hordak hisses out, and Catra starts seeing black spots across her vision.

Just as it becomes too much and Catra feels moments away from passing out, Hordak throws her away from him, her back hitting a tree.

“You’re not even worth killing,” Hordak says.

Catra whimpers.

“Pathetic,” Hordak spits at her, “I should have never liberated you from the Magicats. I should’ve left you to die with your kind.”

The words barely stick in Catra’s mind. She focuses on breathing, every inhale making her throat and lungs burn.

Hordak leaves her, the Imp jumping on his shoulders and watching Catra as Hordak leaves Catra dying in the woods.

Catra doesn’t know how long she sits against that tree. The silence of the forest makes it feel like hours, and she feels a strange emptiness that she isn’t used to. It’s so different from the destructive anger that ignited after talking to Adora in the Crimson Waste or the false feeling of contentment in the portal’s alternate reality.

She’s all alone for the first time in here life, left for dead by the person she spent her entire life trying so hard to please.

_I was never enough_, she thinks, collapsing to the ground as her lungs still protest each breath she takes, _No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough._

She thinks she sleeps, because when she opens her eyes, it’s dark outside and she’s shivering from the cold seeping from the ground into her clothes and skin.

She debates just staying there and wasting away, but a small part of her argues.

_Get up,_ the voice in her head commands, _You’ve survived worse. You’re not going to die here against this tree, so get up._

Catra’s claws sink into the earth as she pushes up, every muscle in her body protesting the movement, but she can’t do it. She collapses back to the ground and breathes out a whimper, her body curling in on itself.

She’s sure she starts going insane, because when she opens her eyes, the version of herself from the portal is crouched in front of her.

“You really are pathetic,” Portal-Catra says, her voice distorted, “You deserve to die here.”

Catra swipes at her portal-self weakly, but she dodges it easily.

“Hordak should’ve just killed you himself,” the distorted Catra continues, a sardonic smile pulling at her lips, “Instead he just left you like the disgrace you are.”

“Shut up,” Catra says weakly, and she tries to pull herself up again, this time ignoring the searing pain.

“All that hard work, and where did it get you?” Portal-Catra says, “Left for dead after your almost-success. Even Shadow Weaver was treated with more respect.”

Catra grits her teeth and pulls herself onto her feet, leaning against the tree heavily.

Portal-Catra laughs a distorted laugh. “Look at you, trying so hard to keep going,” she leans over and fills Catra blurry vision, “Just give up, Catra. It’ll be over if you just give up.”

“No,” Catra breaths out, “I won’t.”

“What’ll you do?” the distorted voice asks, “Where will you go?”

Catra doesn’t know. She hasn’t thought that far ahead. Her only focus right now is getting someplace safe and hopefully warm.

“There’s nowhere for you now,” the distorted Catra says in her silence, “As if you ever belonged everywhere before.”

Catra takes a deep, painful breath and starts walking, using the tree to support herself so she won’t fall back to the ground again.

Her distorted self follows her as she moves through the woods slowly, whispering taunts and telling her to just give up, give in, and finally die.

Catra doesn’t know why she doesn’t listen. Dying seems so much easier than painfully surviving, but there’s something in her, the stubborn part that fought Shadow Weaver despite the abuse and refused to follow Adora to the Rebellion, that makes her keep moving forward, each step heavy and almost impossible to make.

She ignores her distorted self and keeps walking until she sees lights in the distance.

“They won’t help you,” Portal-Catra says, “They’d rather see you dead.”

Catra pulls her Force Captain’s badge from her belt and watches it shimmer against the moonlight in her hand.

It represents everything she’s ever worked for. It represents defeating Shadow Weaver and gaining far more within the Horde than anyone expected of her.

She throws it away from herself and keeps walking, telling herself that she’ll come back out to the woods after and retrieve it.

Each step becomes harder to take, and just as Catra spots someone at the edge of the village, her foot catches a root and she pitches forward, black engulfing her vision.

~*~

_Catra watches the portal tear up the Whispering Woods, and she tries hard to run, but the portal consumes Catra along with the ground and plants and trees._

_Within the portal, all she can see is white, the emptiness sucking her in deeper until it slams her down into some solid surface._

_As she tries to catch her breath, memories from her childhood start playing around her, the small version of herself so similar to the one the First One’s temple showed her all those months ago._

_In one, her younger self tackles Adora, and they fall to the floor giggling._

_Catra gets up and swipes her claws through Adora, but the hologram just distorts around her claws and rights itself again, young-Adora completely unfazed._

_There’s one of them as teenagers alone in the barracks. Adora sits across from Catra, and they whisper excitedly about small gossip they’ve heard around the Fright Zone, Adora grabbing onto Catra’s wrist as she voices her disbelief when Catra says she heard one of the older cadets saw Shadow Weaver without her mask._

_Catra growls and swipes again, this time through both teenagers, but just like with the first, nothing happens. The memory plays on, younger Catra laughing and insisting it was true._

_Catra starts walking, determined to find some way out of here, even if the white goes on endlessly._

_As she walks, more and more memories get in her way._

_Adora bringing Catra an extra of her favorite ration bars that she stole from the kitchens because Catra aced her survival exam._

_The two of them asleep in Adora’s bunk, Catra curled up contentedly at Adora’s feet._

_Catra ignores each one, her anger growing as she passes by the memories._

_One memory appears right in front of her, and she flinches back._

_Adora is curled up with tears threatening to spill over, her hand clutching her bleeding knee, and Catra smiles softly as she cleans it, quietly teasing Adora about overreacting._

_Catra hisses and swipes, but this time, as her arm passes through Adora, the portal’s corruption starts growing up her arm, and Catra can’t stop it. It creeps and creeps until Catra’s arm and half of her face are covered._

_She pulls back from the memory and looks down._

_It doesn’t hurt._

_It doesn’t feel like anything._

_When she looks up, the Whispering Woods are ahead of her, and she smirks as she makes her way out of the expanse of white._

~*~

Catra startles awake, her dream of her time in the portal looming over her, and she quickly lifts her right arm up to inspect it.

It’s normal, no black corruption anywhere, but she notices that she’s no longer in the woods.

She’s in a bed, a blanket pulled up around her and a fire blazing across the room.

She feels panic rise, but she fights it down.

If she were a prisoner, she would be in a cold cell, not a warm bed.

The door opens without warning, and Catra’s instincts kick in, her claws coming up, and the woman that comes through the door almost drops the basket in her hands in surprise.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says quickly, but Catra doesn’t retract her claws.

“Please,” the woman says quietly, “I just want to help you.” She holds the basket up and pulls a bottle of salve from it, showing Catra, and Catra isn’t completely convinced that she’s safe, but she settles back into the bed, her ears still perked up and on high alert for any danger.

The woman breathes out a sigh, and she moved further into the room and sits on the side of Catra’s bed. She takes a rag from the basket and pours some of the salve onto it, raising it up to Catra’s throat.

Catra tenses, and before she can retaliate in any way, the woman pulls back slightly and says, “It’s for the bruises around your neck. It’ll help you feel better.”

Catra’s still tense, but she lets the woman spread the salve over her throat. It numbs the soreness, and she thinks of thanking the woman, but just as she opens her mouth to say anything, the woman puts a hand on Catra’s wrist.

Catra pulls away roughly, her claws just barely grazing the woman’s hand.

“Sorry,” the woman says softly, “You shouldn’t speak. It’ll hurt your throat even more.”

That stops Catra from asking the thousand questions popping into her head, but the woman somehow senses what Catra wants to say.

“I found you at the edge of the village,” the woman explains, “Bruno helped me get you here. You’ve been here for a few days, and you’ve woken up a few times, but you didn’t seem lucid.”

_A few days_, Catra thinks, _Why has this woman been taking care of me for a few days?_

“You can stay here as long as you need,” the woman starts putting her supplies back into the basket, and she looks up at Catra with a small smile, “I’m Shamira, by the way. If you need anything at all, just come find me. You can generally find me out in the garden.”

Shamira leaves, and Catra takes everything about the room in.

It’s small but warm with the fire crackling on the opposite wall. The bed is soft, far softer than Catra is used to in the Fright Zone, and she sinks into the comfort.

She’s on her own until Shamira comes in, a cup of steaming tea in her hands, and she sets it on the bedside table.

“It has honey in it,” Shamira explains, “It should help your voice.”

Catra nods and takes a sip, and it’s sweeter than anything she’s ever tasted. It’s too hot to drink more than a sip, but Catra wants to drink all of it in one gulp.

“Careful,” Shamira laughs, “You’ll burn your tongue.”

Catra holds the cup in her lap and watches Shamira take a seat on the edge of the bed again. Catra scoots away just slightly, still not completely convinced that Shamira only wants to help her, and Shamira seems to understand.

“Why are you helping me?” Catra says despite the pain, her voice coming out hoarse.

“You were half dead,” Shamira says, “You could barely breathe, and you looked like you just got out of a horrible fight. I couldn’t just leave you there to die.”

Catra wonders if Shamira would say the same if she knew Catra was Hordak’s second-in-command until the fight that left her collapsed at the edge of the village. She imagines everyone in this village reveling in her death if they knew who she really is.

“I wasn’t lying,” Shamira says with a soft smile, “You can stay here as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

Catra nods and Shamira leaves again, closing the door gently, and Catra can hear her move throughout the rest of the house. She finishes the rest of her tea and starts to feel exhausted, her eyes drooping, and she barely gets the cup back on the nightstand before she falls asleep.

~*~

Catra learns a lot about Shamira in the next few days, small anecdotes filling the silence as she brings Catra tea and helps her apply salve to the quickly-healing bruises at her neck.

She learns that Shamira lives on her own, and she spends most of her day tending to her gardens and selling the produce.

Shamira talks about the other people in her village too. There’s Bruno, who helped pull Catra from the woods to Shamira’s home, and she tells Catra about Bruno’s family, his two daughters who run around the village causing trouble and pulling pranks, and Catra smiles just barely as Shamira tells her about their latest prank over tea.

There’s also her best friend, Liv, who is in charge of the inn, and Shamira tells Catra stories about some of the people who have passed through, like the fae who got himself so lost that one of the villagers found him on the roof of their house.

Catra starts to feel better, and even though she starts to enjoy being around Shamira, she knows she can’t stay.

Sooner or later they’ll figure out who she is, and when that happens, she can’t be here.

In the middle of the night, Catra pulls herself out of bed and starts gathering supplies. Her muscles barely protest, but she still grabs the salve and medicine Shamira has been giving her the past few days and stuff them into a bag she found.

She doesn’t take anything else, a small twinge of guilt stopping her, and she leaves Shamira’s home and the village behind with one last glance as she makes it to the edge of the woods.

~*~

Her Force Captain badge is exactly where she hazily remembers throwing it, and she dusts some dirt and bugs off of it before picking it up.

She wants to go back to the Horde. She wants to redeem herself with Hordak and gain her position back, but she knows returning there will only get her killed.

She doesn’t know where else to go though.

For a split second, she thinks of the Rebellion, but even just thinking about it and She-Ra makes her want to dig into the closest thing with her claws and tear it apart.

Catra shoves the badge into the bag alongside the medicine and salve and starts walking.

She doesn’t really decide on a direction.

She just moves ahead and wonders where it’ll take her.

As she walks, she thinks, since there isn’t anyone to talk to and nothing much else to do.

She thinks about opening the portal and the satisfaction she felt when she thought she had finally won against the Rebellion.

She thinks about Entrapta and Scorpia, the looks on their faces as Catra’s self-destruction took them down with her.

_I stunned Entrapta,_ Catra thinks, _And I didn’t care what happened to her afterwards._

She thinks of her life within the alternate reality, the feeling of contentment with Adora by her side and Shadow Weaver’s love and approval.

She thinks about Adora saying, _“And you? You’ve made your choice, now live with it!”_ as she drew back and punched Catra.

_It’s not my fault, _Catra thinks, _It’s all Adora’s fault. None of this would’ve happened if she had never found that sword._

Catra isn’t convinced by her own thoughts, though. The sinking emptiness that follows her boiling anger starts turning into something else, something Catra isn’t really sure she’s felt before.

_“Ah, but you are like me,”_ she hears Shadow Weaver tell her in the cell, and Catra fought it so hard then. She knew she was nothing like Shadow Weaver.

But she stunned Entrapta and manipulated her long before that.

She threatened Scorpia without hesitation.

She lied to Hordak to get him to pull the lever because it’s what _she_ wanted.

Catra collapses to the ground with her realization.

“I _am_ like Shadow Weaver,” she says quietly to the woods around her, a confession she’s almost sick to admit out loud.

Shadow Weaver is abusive and manipulative and everything Catra ever hated.

_How didn’t I see that I was becoming her?_

The feeling she doesn’t know how to describe starts to make more sense. It’s regret, sure, but it’s also more than that. It’s regret and guilt and anger and sadness all mixed into one, and she can’t stop the tears as they course down her cheeks and get caught in short fur.

_I got everything I wanted,_ Catra thinks, _I had power and prestige, and even still, it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. _I _was never going to be enough._

She starts tearing the earth as sadness is replaced with anger, her claws cutting through the grass and dirt like butter.

_Even in the portal’s perfect reality, I still wasn’t enough. Not enough to get Adora to stay. Still just her second-in-command._

Catra’s arms tire out, and she’s left clutching clumps of grass in her fists and breathing hard, painful breaths.

She knows she can’t stay here. It’s too open, too dangerous, and she knows she needs to find some sort of shelter before someone finds her here.

Her survival training kicks in, and she picks herself up and walks until she finds a small cave where she can make camp just as morning breaks.

~*~

Catra walks to the edge of the Fright Zone and looks at the only home she ever knew, the tall spires surrounded by smog and the sky green and sickly looking.

She can see where Hordak’s sanctum collapsed in, the other parts barely salvaged, and there’s hesitation in her next step.

She wonders what will happen if she tries going back. Will Hordak kill her? Or maybe imprison her? Will he make her an example to the other soldiers like he meant to do just a few weeks before?

She takes her Force Captain’s badge out of her bag and turns it over in her hand before dropping it to dry, cracking earth.

Catra leaves without a second glance.

~*~

Catra spends weeks just walking from place to place, avoiding villages and people and anything that even resembles civilization.

Her high marks in survival training as a cadet are paying off because surviving throughout Etheria’s different terrains is easier than she expects it to be. Food is easy to find, and Catra almost always finds shelter when she needs it. On the nights that she can’t, she climbs the tallest tree she can find and sleeps among the leaves.

About a week in, she ditches her Horde-issued uniform and takes a few things here and there to blend in, making it easier to lie in the few times she does run into somebody deep in the woods or seemingly lost in the desert.

She has a lot of time to think as she walks, and her thoughts constantly drift back to what Hordak said just before he threw her against the tree.

_“I should have never liberated you from the Magicats. I should’ve left you to die with your kind.”_

She thinks about it as she cooks her food in a cave deep in the Valley of the Lost.

He mentioned the Magicats and Catra belonging to them before Hordak liberated her.

She’s never heard of the Magicats. They were never mentioned in any of her courses about the different species of Etheria. She never learned the best tactics of attack against them, or how the Horde won their land.

Catra decides to look for the Magicats, starting by covering herself in a stolen cloak and walking into the village near her cave.

Nobody seems to notice her, and Catra prefers it that way, instead focusing on finding any sort of bookshop or anything among the shops that line the street. If she can’t find one here, she’ll have to start asking around, and that feels like a bad decision.

She finds a bookshop nestled between the general store and a produce shop, and she opens the creaky door.

A bell dings over her head as she comes into the only bookshop in the village, and the old fae behind the counter smiles at her.

“Welcome,” he says jovially, “Can I help you find anything?”

Catra looks around at the piles of books and asks, “Do you have anything about the Magicats?” Her voice feels rough from weeks of not using it, and she hopes the man doesn’t sense anything off.

The man looks her over, and Catra messes with the hood of her cloak hiding her ears.

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” he says and comes out from around the counter, his hooves clicking against the hardwood, “What’s got you interested in them?”

“Heard the name a few weeks ago,” Catra says flippantly, “Just curious, I guess.”

The man nods and starts moving deeper into the store, and Catra follows him.

“I’m pretty sure I have an Etherian history book that mentions them,” the man says to himself as he pulls a rolling ladder along with him to a certain section, “Maybe here?” He climbs up the ladder, and Catra watches him almost lose his footing on one of the rungs as he reaches out for one of the books on the higher shelves.

He drops the book down to Catra without warning, and she catches it without thinking.

“I think this one might too,” the man says absentmindedly, going down a few rungs and pulling another book from the shelves and dropping it down to Catra.

He does that a few times, taking a moment to think and then pulling a book and dropping it down to her before he finally thinks he’s found everything that might mention Magicats.

“That should be it,” he says with a smile.

Catra moves her chin over the stack to look at him. “Do you mind if I look through these here?” she asks, worried that stealing this many books might look suspicious.

“Oh, go ahead,” he says with a laugh, “There’s a set of chairs and a table in the back corner. Just let me know if you need anything.”

He’s gone before Catra can even think to thank him, and when she gets to the table, she drops the pile down and stretches her arms before opening the first.

The first three books have short mentions of different Magicats, but nothing about the actual species or where Catra can find them. The fourth mentions them in a famous Etherian battle, but it’s the fifth book that has the most information.

There’s an entire chapter titled, “Magicats: Dwellers of Half Moon.”

_“The Magicats kingdom sits along the Whispering Woods,”_ Catra reads, _“It’s closest neighboring kingdom is Bright Moon, and for centuries, the Magicat queen has held a strong alliance with Queen Angella. Bright Moon and Half Moon’s forces have joined together on multiple occasions to maintain peace throughout Etheria.”_

Catra keeps skimming, looking for a map or something that might help her pinpoint Half Moon’s exact location, but there’s only little parts of the text that give a very unclear idea where the city lies along the Whispering Woods.

Still, Catra keeps reading. She reads about significant Magicats throughout Etheria’s history and observed abilities like enhanced night vision and increased speed. There are even a few pictures and paintings of Magicats, and she runs a finger over the picture of Queen C’yra, feeling some ghost of recognition.

Catra hears the bells over the door ring again, and she quickly stuffs the book into her bag, figuring it would be easiest to leave now with the shopkeeper focused on another customer.

She’s able to slip out of the shop completely unnoticed, and she leaves the village without any issues.

~*~

Catra feels nervous being back in the Whispering Woods. It’s too close to the Rebellion, too close to Bright Moon, and all she can think of is encountering anyone on the long list of people who either hate her or want her dead or both.

She skirts past villages filled with fae and Rebellion soldiers, but she gets close enough to hears bits and pieces about what’s going on at Bright Moon.

She hears about Angella’s fate from two guards discussing Glimmer’s coronation, one of just the many rumors of the queen’s disappearance and assumed death.

Catra knows what actually happened to the queen, though. In their short time together before the truth came out, Hordak mentioned that the portal could only be closed by someone being suspended between realities to keep it closed.

Adora was the last person Catra saw in the portal, and the first she saw when it was destroyed, so Catra connects everything together to understand Angella’s fate.

She also sees some of the villages celebrating the Rebellion gaining back land from the Horde, giant parties just like the one they threw for her in the Crimson Waste, and she watches them from her place high in the trees.

She doesn’t know what to feel. She should feel hatred at the satyrs singing and dancing and playing games, but she doesn’t feel anything. No hatred, no happiness, nothing.

She looks for Half Moon at night, skirting the edges of the Whispering Woods and looking for signs of anyone who looks like her.

At one point, she sees Bright Moon in the distance and immediately turns around, the memories of her and Adora that the portal played for her haunting her.

It takes her weeks to find the entrance to Half Moon, and she follows a tunnel deep into the earth, the air around her growing damp and cool the further she goes in. Her eyes quickly adjust to the dark, and she’s on edge, waiting for a sign of anything living.

There’s nothing. No Magicats or anyone else.

The tunnel opens up and Catra sees the eternal flame burning bright under the statue of Queen Malika just as it was described in the book she stole.

“Hello?” Catra calls out as she walks up to the flame. It gives her enough light to see the castle and the shops that look like they haven’t been used in years.

“Is anyone here?”

There’s no answer.

Catra drops her bag and grabs the book, sitting down and using the light of the flame to reread the Magicat section. The history stops just before the Horde rose to power, and there’s nothing that explains why the Magicats wouldn’t be in Half Moon.

“Oh, dearie, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for in that book.”

Catra’s hair stands on end, the book falling from her hands, and she turns, her claws ready for a fight.

A woman in a long pink dress walks out from behind Malika’s statue, and Catra stands quickly, the book forgotten at her feet.

“Who are you?” Catra asks, watching the woman hobble around.

The woman smiles as she stops in front of Catra. “Oh, C’yra, it’s been so long. It’s no wonder you don’t remember Madame Razz.”

Catra steps away from the woman, her back hitting the pit of the eternal flame. “My name isn’t C’yra.”

The woman stares at Catra with her wide unblinking eyes and an unwavering smile.

“It’s been so long since you’ve been back here, C’yra,” the woman says, and now Catra’s interested.

“I’ve been here before?”

“Oh, that’s such a silly question, dearie,” the woman says, nudging Catra with her walking stick, “This is your home.”

The butterflies surrounding the woman comes and fly around Catra, and she watches them closely.

“Where is everyone?” Catra asks the woman, “The book made it seem like there would be Magicats everywhere.”

“Nobody has been here for a long time.”

“What happened?”

The woman doesn’t say anything. She just walks further into Half Moon, and Catra follows without being asked, her curiosity leading her.

The woman leads her up to the castle steps, and Catra sees the remnants of a battle lost. There are weapons strewn around them, and bodies still clad in armor.

There are fallen Horde soldiers too, their armor standing out.

Anger flares, and Catra grabs onto the woman’s arm. “What happened here?” Catra hisses out even though she already knows the answer.

Hordak should have left her to die with the rest of her kind.

The Horde slaughtered the Magicats.

It’s why she’s never seen anyone who looks like her.

It’s why the shopkeeper in the bookstore hadn’t heard of the Magicats in a long time.

They have been gone since Hordak took her as a baby.

Catra feels empty like she did when Adora told her that Shadow Weaver came back for her. All she can think about is finding Hordak and tearing him apart, watching sparks fly as she rips Entrapta’s armor from his body, taking away the only power he has.

Catra releases the woman, and she keeps walking up the steps as Catra collapses to her knees surrounded by the bodies of her people.

“Come, C’yra,” the woman calls down to her, “There’s something Madame Razz want to show you.”

Catra’s claws dig into her palms, and she feels them break skin, focusing on the pain to stop herself from crying.

“C’yra, dearie,” the woman appears right in front of Catra, and she tilts Catra’s head up so that Catra is looking at her, and she’s smiling softly, “All is not lost.”

“How can you say that?” Catra spits out, angry at the woman’s flippant attitude, “Everything I could’ve ever had is lying dead around me, and I spent my entire life being a soldier for the army that did it.”

“Come,” the woman says again, “Madame Razz thinks you’ll find this very interesting.”

She starts walking away, and Catra feels lost.

“Are you Madame Razz?” Catra asks, and the woman turns to her halfway up the stairs.

“Of course, Madame Razz is Madame Razz,” she says chuckling.

“Who are you?”

“Madame Razz just told you.”

Catra groans, feeling even more lost than the weeks she spent wandering around the Whispering Woods looking for Half Moon.

“Now, no more of this silly conversation,” Madame Razz says, “Come.”

Catra pulls herself up and follows, stepping over the bodies littering the steps.

It’s not like she has any other choice.

Madame Razz leads her through the castle’s entrance and into the throne room. Catra notices something lying in front of the ornate throne, but Madame Razz pulls her through a side door.

_Those dumb historians really didn’t get the number of books right_, Catra thinks, looking around the Royal Library. She wants to wander around and find every book she can to learn more about the people she will never get to meet, but Madame Razz bumps into her back.

“What’s your deal?” Catra growls, turning on Razz with claws drawn.

Razz hits Catra on the head with her staff, and Catra hisses.

“Come,” Madame Razz says, unphased by Catra’s aggression, “This isn’t what Madame Razz wanted to show you.”

“I’m done,” Catra says, turning to walk the other way, “You just keep stringing me along and giving me nothing. I’m going to find answers on my own.”

Just as Catra makes it past one stack labeled, “Minutes,” Madame Razz appears directly in front of her, and Catra flinches back with a squeak.

“What the hell?”

“C’yra, dear,” Madame Razz says with a weird, off-kilter smile, “There will be time for this later.”

She doesn’t tell Catra to follow this time, but Catra goes without a fight, curiosity leading her despite her annoyance.

_If this woman is so insistent, it has to be good._

Madame Razz doesn’t talk as she leads Catra further into the library, and Catra quickly reads the spines of the books as they pass them. The titles range from thick histories of the surrounding kingdoms to plays written in a languages Catra recognizes from her Horde education.

Catra reaches for a book, but Madame Razz’s staff smacks her hand.

Before Catra can retort, her eyes catch something over Madame Razz’s shoulder.

“What is that?” Catra asks, moving closer to it.

There’s a large glowing orb sat on its own in the back of the library, and Catra doesn’t remember the book talking about this at all. She thinks she hears whispers coming from it, though, voices drawing her in and urging her to come closer, but she stops herself.

“It’s the Voice of the Ancestors,” Madame Razz tells her, “It holds the memories of every Magicat queen who has held the throne.”

“It’s calling to me,” Catra says softly.

“Because they are your ancestors, C’yra,” Madame Razz says simply.

Catra turns quickly, her eyes wide. “What?”

“The voices call to the Magicat queens,” Madame Razz moves closer to the orb, “Magicat queens in the past have used it to receive guidance and speak to those they have lost.”

_That means that I—_

Catra shakes her head to stop that thought. “You’re wrong.”

Madame Razz smiles, “You have never fully believed in yourself, C’yra.”

“And you’re insane.”

“Come,” Madame Razz beckons her, “Madame Razz will show you that she doesn’t lie.”

Catra hesitates, but the voices get louder, and she can’t help herself.

When she stops in front of the orb, Madame Razz grabs her hand and places it against the glass.

_It’s warm_, Catra thinks, _and it feel so familiar, like it’s been waiting on me._

She hears her name like a whisper, and she looks around to see where it came from, but Madame Razz watches her from the other side of the room, and they are the only two people in the library.

_“Catra, love,”_ Catra hears, and she realizes that the voices aren’t coming from anywhere in the library. It’s coming from the orb underneath her hand.

_“Let go, Catra,”_ the voices command, _“Let go.”_

Catra doesn’t know how she does it, but closing her eyes and allowing the orb’s warmth to seep into her hand and up her arm feels like second nature, and when she opens them again, she’s no longer in the library.

She’s back in the throne room, but the torches are lit and there’s someone crouched in front of the throne.

Catra moves closer, and she sees a Magicat woman knelt down in front of a small kitten, and the woman is wiping tears from the kitten’s cheek.

“I know, love,” the woman says softly, and Catra circles them to see the woman’s soft smile, “I know it’s scary, which is why you need to find Sakina and run, okay?”

The kitten’s eyes open, and Catra’s breath catches.

The kitten’s eyes are mismatched, her right a light blue and her left a deep gold.

“I don’t want to leave,” the kitten wipes tears with her heel of her hand, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Oh, Catra,” the woman says, her voice so soft and full of care, “I don’t want to leave you either, but I need to know that you’re safe.”

The doors to the throne room burst open, and Catra doesn’t remember this, but she can guess where this is about to go.

“What a sweet scene,” Hordak says, a sick smile pulling at his lips, and Catra feels her fur stand up on end. She knows it’s not him and that she doesn’t exist within whatever this is, but she can’t help the surge of panic.

The woman springs to her feet and urges the kitten behind her to protect her.

“You made a mistake coming here, Hordak,” the woman says, her canines bared at the Horde’s leader, “The Magicats will do what Bright Moon and Mystacor never could.”

“Your people are losing, Reina,” Hordak says, “Surrender and I will spare you and your people.”

“Magicats don’t surrender,” Reina growls and hisses, and the kitten hisses at Hordak around Reina’s leg.

“Then your people will be slaughtered.”

Reina lunges at Hordak, and before she reaches him, the scene dissolves, and Catra is just surrounded by black.

“I should’ve surrendered,” Catra hears from behind her, “I should have thought of my people, but my pride killed all of us.”

Catra turns around and watches Reina appear from the darkness.

“Or almost all of us,” Reina adds on, smiling at Catra.

“I guess I have Hordak to thank for that,” Catra says, her ears flattening against her head.

“He always loved taking trophies.”

Catra falls silent and looks anywhere but at the woman standing in front of her, thinking that if she doesn’t look at her, she won’t have to admit who the woman is.

Who Catra is.

She hears Reina move around her, but she refuses to look up.

“There’s so much I want to say,” Reina says softly, “And so many things I want to ask.”

“Don’t.” Catra hates how soft her voice is and the small break that gives her away.

“Catra—”

“Don’t!”

Catra looks up and Reina seems on the verge of tears.

_This is all so overwhelming._

“I can’t listen to you wish things were different,” Catra says, her sadness turning into anger, “I can’t listen to you say that you wish you could’ve kept me safe.” Catra turns away. “I can’t see the disappointment in your eyes when you ask me about the Horde and my involvement in it.”

“Nothing that happened there is your fault, Catra,” Reina insists.

“No,” Catra shakes her head, and she doesn’t know why she’s fighting Reina’s words. She’s spent so long blaming her behavior on other people, on Shadow Weaver and Hordak’s abuse and Adora leaving her for the bright pastels of Bright Moon.

“It is my fault,” Catra says, her eyes coming up to meet Reina’s, “I didn’t come to the Horde willing, but I had a million chances to leave, and I didn’t. I stayed, and I climbed the ranks and I did what I had to do to maintain power.”

_Like electrocuting Entrapta and threatening Scorpia. Hordak never told me to do that. That was all me._

“I’m only here because Hordak threw me out and almost killed me,” Catra says honestly, finally meeting Reina’s eyes.

Reina doesn’t look disappointed. She looks sad, but underneath it, Catra sees just a sliver of pride, and she guesses that’s the part of Reina who wanted to watch her daughter grow up and becomes the Magicats’ greatest warrior.

“But you are here,” Reina says, “Whether willing or not, you have found your kingdom.”

Catra scoffs, “A queen with no one to rule.”

Reina looks down at that comment, but she looks up with a newfound fire in her eyes.

“A queen with a destiny forgotten for a thousand years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Reina refers to the Magicat queen’s destiny concerning She-Ra,” another voice says, and another Magicat woman appears behind Reina. She’s dressed in outdated armor, and her weapon would never hold up to the Horde’s tech, but her eyes are mismatched, the right a light blue and the left a deep gold.

“Who are you?” Catra asks.

“Queen C’yra,” the woman steps closer, and Catra takes a few steps back to stay away from her.

“That’s the name Madame Razz keeps calling me,” Catra says, and as C’yra takes another step forward, she takes another step back, “Why does she keep calling me your name?”

C’yra rolls her eyes, “Madame Razz is never quite sure what timeline she’s in. She used to call me Catra.”

“That’s insane,” Catra says, and she starts wondering if this is all a dream, and any second now, she’s going to wake up leaned up against the Eternal Flame.

C’yra rolls her eyes again, and Catra can feel how annoyed she is, “Whether you believe me or not, it’s true, but we did not come here to discuss Madame Razz. I came to discuss your destiny.”

“Yeah,” Catra looks around her to try and find an exit, but there are none, “that’s all nice and all, but I don’t want any part of it.”

C’yra barks out a laugh. “It’s called destiny because you don’t have a choice, kitten.”

“That’s bullshit.”

C’yra smiles, “I said the same thing.”

“Really?” Catra asks, and C’yra shrugs.

“I had no interest in the First Ones or their purpose on Etheria,” C’yra explains, “I only cared about the Magicats, but destiny is destiny. Mara came to Half Moon, and I felt drawn to her in an unexplainable way. It was like we had known each other forever in the minute she stepped into my throne room.”

Catra remembers meeting Adora, remembers how instantly comfortable she felt around the other girl.

_The Fright Zone is loud and scary, and Catra feels like she doesn’t belong here, but Shadow Weaver leads her through the halls from the isolation chambers she spent weeks in._

_Shadow Weaver takes Catra to what will become her bunk throughout her childhood and teen years, and the cadets all line up to greet their new bunkmate._

_They go down the line and state their name, and on the end is a young girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and unlike all of the other cadets, she smiles at Catra when she says, “I’m Adora.”_

_They became friends not too long after that, because the Fright Zone was scary, but it was less scary with Adora by her side._

“The role of a Magicat queen is as She-Ra’s companion,” C’yra continues, “Some have been advisors, others have been She-Ra’s closest and most trusted friend, but our lives are always entangled with She-Ra in some way.”

“I hate She-Ra,” Catra spits out.

“No,” C’yra says, “You hate what you think She-Ra has taken from you. You love She-Ra.”

Catra unsheathes her claws and swipes at C’yra, but the other Magicat is fast and far more experienced than Catra.

“You think you know me,” Catra says, angry and swiping at C’yra in an attempt to hurt the woman who is already dead.

“I know what you feel,” C’yra says, catching Catra’s wrists and stopping the attacks, “I can feel it coming off of you in waves. You’re hurt, and you blame She-Ra among all of the others for your hurt, but I heard what you told Reina earlier. You took the blame, Catra. You know what you did is wrong.”

“Let go of me,” Catra says through gritted teeth as she tries pulling her wrists from C’yra’s grip.

“You were abused. You were treated like second best, but you also survived, Catra,” C’yra releases her and Catra stumbles back, “Your destiny lies ahead of you. Don’t keep sabotaging yourself and return to your She-Ra.”

“Adora doesn’t want me!”

“She does. You refuse to let her.”

Before Catra can respond, she’s back in the silent library.

Anger boils up and over, and Catra screams, her claws digging into the glass of the orb, but that don’t scratch the glass in any way, so Catra tries shoving it, wanting desperately to see the warm orange, red, and yellow glass glitter the floor, but it refuses to move.

“The orb cannot be broken, C’yra.”

Catra turns and rushes to Madame Razz, grabbing the woman by the front of her dress and holding her claws ready to attack.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You have a destiny, C’yra,” Madame Razz says, seemingly unphased by Catra’s anger, “Madame Razz wanted to help you realize it.”

“I don’t want this destiny!” Catra yells, and it reverberates around the library.

Madame Razz lets the echoes settle until the library was silent again before says quietly, “Destiny may not seem like a choice, C’yra, but you choose whether you follow it or not.”

“I don’t want to,” Catra says, but even she can hear the lie in her voice.

She was always meant to exist alongside Adora. She thinks of another life where she grew up as princess of the Magicats and Adora grew up in Bright Moon after being found by Angella, and even in this universe, they would meet and become friends.

Their friendship wasn’t an accident, and there’s a reason Shadow Weaver could never seem to sever it.

Adora is Catra’s destiny.

Catra releases Madame Razz.

“I need to go back to Adora,” Catra says softly, “But Adora doesn’t want me back. I lost my chance.”

Catra sinks down to her knees, exhaustion setting in after spending so long looking for Half Moon and the torrent of emotions she felt in the last day alone.

“I need to do my duty as queen.” _Queen of a people I don’t remember and will never know. A role I was taught to hate. I role I have to play to honor the Magicats._

“Yes, She-Ra needs her Magicat queen,” Madame Razz says, using her staff to lift Catra’s head, and her usually unnerving smile is softer, “But more importantly, Mara needs you, C’yra.”

Catra looks away, “Adora never needed me.”

“Oh, my dear C’yra,” Madame Razz laughs, and it isn’t cruel like Catra is used to. It’s like and genuinely amused, “Mara needs someone like you or else she starts to forget she’s human as well as She-Ra.”

“But I’ve made so many mistakes,” Catra says, thinking of the Battle of Bright Moon and pulling the lever to activate the portal, “I don’t know if anyone will ever forgive me, and even if they did, I wouldn’t deserve it.”

She thinks of Scorpia’s unwavering support, Entrapta’s endearing scientific rambles, and how comfortable she felt around them, even if they weren’t what she really wanted.

“I don’t deserve it,” Catra adds on quietly.

“First things first, dearie. You need to atone.”

“How do I do that?” Catra asks, feeling desperate, “Sorry isn’t going to cut it.”

Madame Razz pats Catra gently on the head, “Oh, C’yra. You’ll find a way.”

With that, the strange woman leaves Catra all alone in a kingdom that was meant to be hers.

~*~

_I need to atone,_ Catra thinks as she walks through the Whispering Woods to Bright Moon

She knows her fate. She knows no one will believe her, and she knows she ran out of chances with Adora when she pulled the lever, but she doesn’t know any other way.

So, that’s how she finds herself at Bright Moon’s gates waiting for the guards to notice her.

_I need to atone,_ Catra thinks as the guards surround her, _And I will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there it is. As far as I'm aware, I don't think I have anything else for this universe, so if there's anything else you want to see, just let me know! If enough people want it, I might do a Catradora reunion after the trial, but we'll see.
> 
> If there's anything you'd like to see, or you want to tell me whether you love it or hate it, let me know! If Tumblr is more your speed, you can find me over at hellofromthe-otter-slide.
> 
> Until the next chapter!


	4. Once Upon a Time in the Crimson Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months after being exiled to the Crimson Waste, Catra hears whispers while meeting Double Trouble in a tavern.
> 
> She-Ra had been spotted in the Valley of the Lost, and she was asking for Catra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I usually start these with an excuse, but this time, I've got a pretty valid one. My dog pulled me down a hill and dislocated and broke my ankle at the end of December, so it's been a complicated few months since then. I figured there's no better time to start writing my fics again than being on suspension before classes go online at my university.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Crimson Waste feels warmer today than usual. Catra can feel the heat seeping into her fur, and while it feels good to her, she can see how uncomfortable everyone else in the tavern is. Jackets are thrown on the backs of chairs with grumbles of discontent, and everyone around her has ordered something cold and filled with ice.

Even Double Trouble looks uncomfortable as they plop down in the seat across from her.

They fan themselves as they ask, “How is it that you aren’t dying right now?”

Catra smirks, “Heat feels good in my fur.”

“Well, it feels absolutely _horrible_ against my skin,” Double Trouble leans back in their chair, “Go fetch me something frozen as my heart.”

Catra leans an elbow on the table and takes a long drink of her own icy drink. “Go get it yourself,” she flicks the cold condensation at Double Trouble, and they immediately glare at her, “You’ve got two working legs.”

“And you won’t if you keep doing that.”

Catra barks out a sarcastic laugh, “I’ve seen you fight. There’s no way you could catch me.”

“Oh, Kitten,” Double Trouble winks at her, and Catra bristles at the nickname, “Your confidence in your fighting capabilities is almost laughable. I can become you, darling, therefore I can crush you without a second thought.”

“Someone’s cocky.” Catra leans back in her chair and takes another long sip of her drink.

“Just remember who got us out of that fight last week.”

“I had that handled.”

Double Trouble laughs, “You were getting your ass handed to you.”

“Why do I bother being around you?” Catra says it harshly, but she knows Double Trouble will hear the humor underneath it all.

That’s the nice thing about Double Trouble. They’re just as harsh and prickly as she is, even if they hide it under a mountain of drama.

They get her in a weird way Catra hasn’t felt since Adora left the Horde.

Double Trouble smiles, and Catra isn’t sure whether it’s supposed to be sweet or not, because it’s just the wrong side of unsettling. “Because, Force Captain,” Double Trouble uses Catra’s old title like a joking jab, “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have survived the troubles of the Crimson Waste.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“It’s the truth, darling.”

Catra pushes up from the table, “I’ll go get you something, but it’s only because my drink is gone and you're getting to be too much to handle.”

“Get me something fruity!” Double Trouble calls to her as she leaves as if she wouldn’t know what they want.

The tavern is full to the brim with everyone trying to escape the heat, and Catra catches pieces of conversation as she tries to push herself up to the crowded bar.

“-I can’t believe he even had the guts to leave. We all thought he was a bit of a wimp, all things considered—”

“-dead. I am actually dead. Literally dead. How can anyone or anything survive in this heat?—”

“-No, I’m being serious. Rod told me he saw her in the Waste. She had the sword and everything—”

At that, Catra pauses.

Plenty of people have swords. They’re a common weapon outside of the Horde, and Etherians have been trained to use them for centuries.

It’s the way they said it.

Not just _a _sword.

_T__he _sword.

Catra stops to listen in more.

“Bad things happened the last time a princess stepped foot in the Waste,” their friend replied, and Catra sees them shiver a bit at the memory, “Someone needs to do something about her now.”

Catra interrupts their conversation. “Who’s in the Waste?”

Now that she’s directly talking to them, she knows exactly who they are. It’s Dempsey and Hamill, two snake hybrids that were a part of Tung Lashor’s gang before Catra defeated him, and unlike the rest who followed Catra without a second thought, they ran to join another gang.

Since Catra’s been back in the Waste, they’ve avoided being anywhere near her for months.

They shrink away from her with a hiss.

“Knock it off,” Catra says with an eye roll, “I just need to know who you were talking about.”

But of course, everyone heard the whispers, even out here in the Crimson Waste. Everyone here knew who Catra was outside of the reputation she’s built over the last few months, and Dempsey and Hamill just look at each other with curiosity and a bit of fear.

“You know,” Catra says casually, pushing in between them and wrapping an arm around their shoulders, “I would really like to do this as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

“What are you going to do with the information we tell you?” Dempsey asks, and Catra shoots him a smile that’s mostly teeth.

Sharp, pointy teeth.

“That’s none of your business, Dempsey.”

“We know what happened last time,” Hamill says quickly, and Catra tightens her grip on him.

“Okay, I’m going to be honest with you two,” Catra says, her voice more friendly than it’s been for a majority of the conversation, “I just to know which of the princesses you were talking about and where Rod saw her,” Catra points across the tavern to Double Trouble amusing themselves at their table, “DT also asked me to get them a drink, and this conversation has taken a significant amount of time. Eventually they’ll start to wonder what’s taking so long, so they’ll come over here, and you’ll have to deal with them _and _me.”

Catra knows it’s not true. Double Trouble couldn’t care less about how long it takes her to get their drink as long as they eventually get it. They care more about keeping their table.

Double Trouble has a reputation, though, and it’s a good enough threat.

“It’s She-Ra,” Dempsey spits out, and Hamill levels a glare his way, “Rod saw her in the Valley. He knows it’s her because of the sword.”

“Good job, Dempsey,” Catra says with mock congratulations, “Anything else?”

Dempsey gulps before adding, “Rod heard that she was asking around for you.”

_Adora’s looking for me_, Catra thinks, _Why is Adora looking for me?_

“I appreciate the info,” Catra lets them go, and continues to the bar, turning to say, “Next time, don’t make it so hard on yourself,” with a smirk.

Dempsey looks guilty, and Hamill punches him before Catra turns back around.

She’s placing Double Trouble’s drink in front of them a few minutes later. “I heard—”

“She-Ra is in the Crimson Waste,” Double Trouble cuts her off, “The table next to us is talking rather loudly about it.”

Catra slumps down into her seat, “You could’ve let me finish.”

“I could’ve, but the cute little upset face you make when I do that makes it all worth it,” Double Trouble says before taking a long sip of their drink.

Catra runs her finger over the cool condensation of her glass, and she feels Double Trouble’s gaze piercing into her.

“Just ask already,” Catra spits out, “You never hold back, so I don’t know why you are now.”

“I wasn’t going to ask anything,” Double Trouble says, calm against Catra’s anger and frustration, “I was going to tell you to go find her before some idiotic Crimson Waste thug does.”

Catra scoffs, “Adora can handle herself.”

Double Trouble kicks her under the table. “Get out of here, Kitten.”

Catra downs the rest of her drink and hides a smile. “I’ll see you back at our place.”

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll provide dinner.”

Catra laughs, “You cooking is probably the best joke you’ve made today.”

“My plan was to buy, not cook,” Double Trouble flicks her with their tail, “And if you don’t get out of here, I’m going to go find She-Ra myself.”

“And do what? Ask if the Rebellion has enough money to hire you on?”

Double Trouble smirks, “I think the queen of Bright Moon could afford it.”

Catra deflates just so at the mention of Glimmer and reminder of why Glimmer is queen.

What she did.

“No one could afford you,” Catra says in an effort to mask the feelings she hasn’t had to think about since the Bright Moon guards brought her here.

“I am an expensive bitch,” Double Trouble says with a satisfied smile, “Now go. You’re boring me.”

“See you tonight.”

Double Trouble waves her off, and Catra leaves the tavern without issue.

The Valley of the Lost is emptier than usual today with the heat forcing everyone to find shade and cover. Catra notices a few shady deals in the corner of her eye, and there are still merchants trying to sell stolen goods, but it’s easy for her to walk the streets completely unnoticed.

Adora isn’t hard to find, and Catra scales a building to be able to follow her without Adora noticing. She watches Adora creep along the streets until they’re somewhere no one will follow.

“If you wanted to travel without being recognized, you should’ve left the sword at home,” Catra calls from her spot along the building, and she crouches down so that Adora can see her better.

Catra sees the exact moment Adora finds her. Her eyes search above her, and the moment she lands on Catra, there’s a small smile pulling at the lips that Catra isn’t sure she deserves.

“Coming to the Crimson Waste without a weapon sounds like a bad idea,” Adora says easily.

“You’re the talk of the Valley.”

“Really?”

Catra tilts her head just so. “Princesses aren’t really welcomed here after what happened.”

Adora’s head tilts too, like she’s trying to figure out why. “It wasn’t our fault.”

Catra sits along the edge and dangles her legs over. “They know it was me,” Catra explains, “Words travels, even here. Princesses aren’t welcome because you don’t understand the Waste.”

“I understand the Crimson Waste,” Adora scoffs.

Catra smirks, “If you understood, you wouldn’t have gone around asking for me,” she gives Adora a quick once over, “You also would’ve changed out of that jacket. It practically screams who you are.”

“Could you stop telling me everything I’ve done wrong and come down here?”

Catra’s tail flicks in amusement, and she lifts her leg and rests her chin on her knee. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I’m not shouting it up at you,” Adora rolls her eyes.

“Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Catra—”

“Okay, okay,” Catra puts her hands up in surrender, “I’m coming down.”

She jumps and lands a few feet in front of Adora, and when she picks herself up out of her crouch, she smirks. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora leans against the wall at her back, and Catra notes that Adora isn’t guarded in front of her anymore. Adora’s sword is sheathed on her back, and her body language looks relaxed. She doesn’t look poised to fight at all.

“Been a while,” Adora says with her own smirk.

“Since the guards were leading me out of Mystacor to come to the Waste, right?”

“With guards who didn’t think I could take you,” Adora’s smirk becomes cockier, “I could totally take you.”

Catra rolls her eyes and ignores the bait. “Why are you here, Adora?”

“I need to talk to you about something.” It’s vague, and Catra’s mind starts to wander.

The only reasonable explanation Catra can come up with is that Mystacor learned that the princesses were lying about the Crimson Waste, and they sent Adora here to bring Catra back to Bright Moon for the Rebellion’s first execution is a hundred years.

There’s no other explanation for Adora coming here.

“Well?” Catra says, frustration painting the edges of her tone, “Go on then.”

Adora looks around them, and Catra wonders what she’s looking for.

“Is there anywhere we can go where someone can’t find us?”

It’s a weird request, even weirder given their history, but Catra nods without asking why. “Follow me.”

Catra leads Adora out of the Valley of the Lost, peeking around corners and ensuring no one follows them. They keep walking through the desert, the warm, unrelenting sun beating down on them, until Catra finds what she’s looking for.

It’s a cave, and deep within it is the only body of water Catra knows of in all of the Waste. The inside is cool, and after the long walk, Adora sinks against the cave wall.

“When I asked if there was somewhere we could go, I wasn’t expecting you to take me miles into the desert,” Adora groans and wipes some sweat from her forehead.

Catra sits against the cave wall opposite Adora, “You wanted someplace where no one will come. This is it.”

Adora lifts her head from the wall and looks around, her eyes going wide when she seeks the crystal-clear blue water about ten feet away from them. “This place is amazing.”

“Double Trouble showed it to me right after they helped me,” Catra says softly, “As far as I know, we’re the only ones who know about it.”

They fall silent, and while Adora looks around the cave and takes everything in, Catra just watches her. She watches the way the water reflects in Adora’s blue eyes and sends ripples along her golden hair.

“Adora?” Catra says softly, and Adora stops her examination of the cave to look over at Catra with a curious look.

“You came here to talk about something.”

“Oh, right,” Adora crosses her legs and takes the Sword of Power off of her back, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Catra snorts. “You came all the way to the Crimson Waste, probably without your friends knowing, to ask me something?”

“It’s one of those things I had to ask in person.”

“Okay,” Catra makes herself comfortable and pulls one knee to her chest, “Ask away.”

Adora seems to hesitate before she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re the queen of the Magicats?”

Catra goes still. “Who told you?” she asks, her voice so quiet, but it resounds in the echoing silence of the cave.

“Madame Razz took me to Half Moon,” Adora explains, “It happened accidentally. I always look for Razz when things don’t make sense, and usually she just leads me to a ton of dead ends, but this time she led me through the Whispering Woods right into Half Moon.”

Catra doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t know what to say, and in her silence, Adora keeps talking.

“I know you already saw it,” Adora says softly, “You already know what’s there, but it was awful. The Horde slaughtered them, but I barely got a moment to process it before Razz ushered me to the throne room of the castle. There was a body right in front of the throne—”

“Queen Reina,” Catra cuts in, “Queen Reina was killed by Hordak in the throne room during the invasion.”

_My mother_, Catra doesn’t say, _You saw the body of my mother._

Adora takes a deep breath, understanding Catra’s unspoken words without acknowledging them.

“Razz told me about the connection you talked about during your trial,” Adora says, her voice quieter than before, “She told me that each She-Ra formed a connection with the Magicat queen of her time, and that it was destiny.”

Adora is silent for a few moments before saying, “She told me that our paths were meant to intertwine, that you’re my Magicat queen.”

Catra looks down at her lap, refusing to meet Adora's eyes, “What do you want me to say?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Adora asks accusingly, “Why didn’t you tell me this at the trial?”

“Would it have changed my fate?” Catra retorts, her voice angry, “If the Rebellion knew I was the Magicat queen, would they magically accept me as one of their own?” Catra looks up at Adora, and just seeing her there, her eyes burning with determination, makes Catra even angrier. “I pulled the lever, Adora. _I_ opened the portal. Just because I’m queen of a long dead and forgotten people doesn’t change that.”

“I,” Adora seems to lose some of her steam, “You still should’ve told me.”

“Why?” Catra shouts, and it reverberates along the cave walls, “I was still going to be exiled to the Crimson Waste.”

“Because, Catra,” Adora shouts back, “This isn’t just your destiny. It’s mine too!”

“Some destiny, right?” Catra scoffs, “This destiny that made us Horde soldiers under Shadow Weaver. It watched everything she did to us, everything the Horde did to us, and it did _nothing_ while we suffered.” Now that Catra has started, she can’t seem to stop. “What kind of destiny tears us apart and makes us fight on opposite sides of a war? What kind of destiny forges itself in two child soldier who don’t know any better than to fight for all the wrong reasons?”

“You chose to stay, Catra,” Adora says, “That wasn’t a part of our destiny.”

“Of course I fucking chose to stay!” Catra yells, “The Horde was the only thing I knew, and after you left, I finally got some credit for all of the work I spent years doing. I thought that I finally got the same respect from Shadow Weaver that you did, and you know what? It felt great to be appreciated for once.”

Catra stands and starts pacing just to release some of her building frustration.

“You left me,” Catra says, “You left me so easily when you learned what the Horde truly was, but you saw everything Shadow Weaver did to me. You watched her use her magic on me and hurt me, and,” Catra breathes in, “and it was never enough to make you want to leave. You left for random people and two Rebellion fighters you barely knew.”

Catra hears Adora get up, and she assumes Adora is leaving until she feels a hand wrap around her wrist.

“I don’t know what to say to make that better,” Adora confesses, “I don’t know what I can do to show you that I tried stopping Shadow Weaver, but she always told me that your punishment was my fault. I always thought that if I were just a little bit better, a stronger soldier and a cunning strategist, I could stop her from hurting you, and it never worked.”

Adora’s thumb runs over Catra’s wrist.

“You were never second best to me, Catra,” Adora whispers, “You were never my sidekick, and you were never my pet. You have so much potential to achieve so many things.”

“But only for the Rebellion.”

“Oh, gods, no,” Adora laughs lightly, “I’m done asking you to join us. I know it isn’t what you want.”

Catra finally turns, and she lifts her eyes to see Adora with a soft smile just for her.

“I don’t know how you can even be here,” Catra says, “After everything I’ve done and every way I’ve hurt you, you should hate me.”

“I did, for a bit,” Adora admits, “After you pulled the lever and we lost Angella, I thought I would hate you forever, but then you showed up at Bright Moon wanting to stand trial for what you did, and I realized a small part of the Catra I grew up with was still in there. You just buried her deep down.”

Catra wonders if it’s really that, or if their shared destiny has anything to do with Adora starting to forgive her.

“I know this whole idea of destiny is hard to handle,” Adora says, letting Catra’s wrist go but not moving away, “It doesn’t feel like we have a choice, but I just need you to know that even if it wasn’t our fate, I would still choose you, Catra.”

“Even after everything?”

Adora smiles again, “In any universe, and in any timeline, I’d choose you without question.”

Catra smiles, and for the first time in a very long time, she feels comfortable around Adora. The comfort she feels is different than the comfort she used to feel around Adora in the Horde. There was no Shadow Weaver to put any strain, no ranks to fight for.

For once in their lives, they are just Adora and Catra with nothing forcing them to be anything else.

“I’d choose you too,” Catra says, “No matter what.”

Adora just smiles at her until something just clicks, and Catra’s seen that face a hundred times. She knows Adora has a million things she wants to talk about, and she can’t figure out where to start.

“So, C’yra was the queen during Mara’s time as She-Ra,” Adora says, “And Razz calls you C’yra.”

“According to C’yra, Razz gets her timelines messed up, whatever that means.”

Adora’s eyes go wide. “You’ve talked to C’yra?”

“Did Razz show you the library?”

Adora nods her head no.

“In the back, there’s a large orb that Razz called The Voice of the Ancestors,” Catra explains, and she hopes what comes next doesn’t sound too insane, “It holds the consciousness of every Magicat queen to ever reign, and because I’m part of the royal lineage, I was able to talk to Queen Reina and C’yra.”

“I wish I could talk to Mara like that.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Catra crosses her arms, “C’yra really put me on my ass.”

“But, I mean,” Adora bumped Catra’s shoulder with her own, “You kind of deserved it.”

“Yes, when people ask me what put me on the path of realizing just how much of an asshole I am, I’ll make sure to make them think I’m crazy because a Magicat queen from a thousand years ago told me I needed to get my shit together.”

Adora laughs, “Well, we all have our ways. I have a magic sword that turns me into an eight-foot-tall warrior princess. You’ve got moody ancestors.”

Catra tackles her, and it’s just like when they were kids again, play wrestling because one of them didn’t have a good comeback. Catra has the advantage with surprise, but Adora’s strong even without the sword, and they play fight until Adora pins one of Catra’s arms behind her back.

“I have to admit,” Catra says, rubbing her shoulder to relieve the ache after Adora lets her go, “This is not how I expected my day to go.”

“And how did you expect it to go?” Adora asks, lying down right beside Catra.

Catra shrugs, “I don’t know. Double Trouble and I probably would’ve found a job to do, and they would’ve spent the entire day complaining about how hot it is, and then they would argue they did most of the work after we got paid and claim they deserve more of the cut.”

“Who’s Double Trouble?” Adora asks, “You mentioned them before.”

They fall into easy conversation. Catra tells the story of Double Trouble coming to her rescue when Tung Lashor’s old gang cornered her, and she talks about her life in the Waste, not even leaving out the less-than-legal things her and Double Trouble get up to.

Adora tells her about Bright Moon and life where the war between the Horde and the Rebellion still rages on. She tells Catra about missions and meetings, and when she brings up a mission where her and Scorpia defeated an entire squadron all on their own, she reached into her back pocket and pulls something out.

“She caught me on my way out,” Adora says, “Somehow she knew exactly where I was going. She wanted you to have this.”

It’s a letter, and on the outside, in Scorpia’s messy handwriting is just one word, a nickname Scorpia gave her so long ago: Wildcat.

“How is she?” Catra asks, her fingers messing with the letter nervously, “And Entrapta too.”

“Entrapta still refuses to leave Dryl,” Adora tells her, “She refuses to come back to the Princess Alliance, and we decided it was just best to leave her on her own.”

“And Scorpia?”

Adora points to the letter in Catra’s hands, “I think that’ll be able to tell you better than I can.”

Catra figures she’s right, and she stuff the letter into her pocket for later.

Adora tells her more about the war and how Hordak seems to be slipping after losing so many people, and Catra realizes that the more Adora tells her, the more she’s rooting for the Rebellion despite all of the work she put in against them.

“I’m sorry,” Adora says, cutting herself off mid-story about her, Bow, Sea Hawk, and Mermista protecting Sealineas from a growing Horde navy, “I didn’t even think about the fact that you may not want to hear about this.”

“No, it’s fine,” Catra laughs lightly, “Hordak almost killed me, so anything that’s a pain in his ass is a story I want to hear.”

Catra’s voice is light, but Adora sits up and grabs Catra’s wrist. “Hordak almost killed you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Catra realizes she might have been a bit too flippant about her almost-death, “After Angella closed the portal and the Fright Zone started to crumble, I got the two of us out. Everything was good until that imp found us and replayed the conversation I had with Entrapta where I tried sending her to Beast Island.”

“And then he almost killed you.”

Catra nods. “He almost choked me to death, and I hate to say that that wasn’t the first time.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I think I am.”

“Catra—”

“It was for the better, okay?” Catra wraps her tail around Adora’s wrist just like she used to, “I needed to be on my own, and that never would’ve happened if Hordak never knew the truth. Being on my own led me to the Magicats and taking responsibility for everything I did.”

Adora’s hand comes up and cups Catra’s face, her thumb running across Catra’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Catra.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” the hand on Catra’s cheek slips into her mane, and Catra sinks into the contact, “Everything?”

“I’m sorry too,” Catra whispers, “For everything.”

Their conversation stays light after that, and they talk until Catra realizes that Adora probably needs to get back to Bright Moon.

“Do you know how to get back from here?” Catra asks as they leave the cave. The sun has set, and the stifling heat has been replaced by a gentle chill.

“Swift Wind is on his way,” Adora lifts the Sword of Protection and sheaths it on her back, “We’ll just fly back.”

“How did you have time to contact him when we just left?”

“Psychic connection,” Adora says like it isn’t the most insane thing Catra’s ever heard.

“You have a psychic connection with your magical talking horse.”

Adora nods. “Apparently the companion is a normal thing for She-Ra,” Adora explains with a smile, “One She-Ra apparently had a dragon, according to Bow’s dads.”

“And you got a magical talking horse,” Catra repeats as she tries to imagine Adora with a dragon companion.

“Swift Wind is nice when he isn’t on a crusade the liberate every horse on Etheria.”

Catra snorts, “That’s his noble mission?”

Adora laughs, “That’s his noble mission.”

They see Swift Wind in the distance, and Adora pulls Catra into a hug.

“Don’t get into too much trouble,” Adora says into Catra’s shoulder.

Catra wraps her arms around Adora tightly. “It’s all Double Trouble,” she insists, “It’s even in their name.”

Adora laughs as Swift Wind lands beside them, and Adora and him share a few soft sentiments before Adora climbs up.

Just at they’re about to take off, Catra stop them. “Hey, Adora?”

Adora turns, “Yeah?”

Catra smiles, “Don’t wait months before the next visit.”

Adora smiles back, “I’ll wear a disguise next time.”

And with that, Swift Wind takes off, leaving Catra on her own beside the entrance to their secret cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think there will be one more, and then this fic will be done. I know there wasn't really anything romantic in this, but I feel like that's not something Catra and Adora can just dive back into right away. I think they kind of need to hear from each other before rebuilding it.
> 
> I hope you really enjoyed it. I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you want to see in the last part of this random conglomeration, so tell me your thoughts. If Tumblr is more your speed, you can find me at hellofromthe-otter-slide.
> 
> Until the next chapter!
> 
> P.S.~ If anyone who reads this also reads my Beast Island series, that's next on my list to write, so hopefully that'll be out in the next week.  
P.P.S.~ If anyone is interested, I'm on the search for a beta. I can offer you the ability to read my fics before anyone else and a strange companionship.


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